Beetlebum
by ladyxa
Summary: 2D walks in on something unexpected, to say the least. 2DxMurdoc, oneshot


**Another oneshot, enjoy!**

He couldn't take this anymore. He was sick of everything. He was sick of causing everyone pain, anger, frustration. He was sick of covering 2D's body with bruises every day. He was sick of Noodle and Russel being angry with him all the time. He was sick of himself.

He hated himself. He hated who he had turned out to be. He was turning into the very man he'd sworn he'd never turn into, and he knew it. His father haunted his dreams every night, taunting and mocking him. Whenever he looked in the mirror, he saw the man he hated. The aggressive, drunk, bitter and unhappy soul that had made his life a living hell. And still was.

Murdoc stared at the gun in his hand. He would end this. He would end everything. Everyone's lives would be better if he was gone. He wouldn't be able to cause any suffering when he was dead. The world would be a better place, rid of a horrible person.

The band member's lives would be better. They would find another bassist soon enough, someone who treated them with respect and kindness like they deserved. He would become good friends with them, maybe become 2D's best friend. A best friend who didn't beat the living daylights out of him regularly, a best friend who didn't cause him so much pain.

Because he didn't deserve that. 2D deserved someone who was kind and sweet to him, someone he could laugh with, someone he could have a good time with. Someone who treated him properly..

Murdoc's hand clenched around the gun as he thought of the singer.

That was what he hated himself the most for. Sensitive, delicate Stuart shouldn't be having to endure this suffering. Every time he looked at him, he saw the damage he had done. His eyes, his missing teeth, the many scars and bruises. He felt like a monster.

Whenever 2D was nice to him, he felt hate run through him. Hating himself. Because Murdoc didn't deserve 2D's kindness. He got angry whenever 2D would be friendly. Why was the blue haired idiot treating him like a human being? With all the horrible things he was doing to him? 2D should hate him. He should hate him just as much as he hated himself. More, even. He got furious at how little pride 2D had. He knew the singer would do anything for him, absolutely anything he wanted, without second thoughts.

So the monster inside him would crawl out and punch the singer. For greeting him. Or offering him a cigarette. Or even smiling at him. And then 2D would give a heartbreaking whimper or sob, depending on how hard the punch was. Then he would look up at him with those huge, black eyes, causing something to rip inside the bassist's chest.

Then Murdoc would leave quickly, locking himself in his room, drowning himself in alcohol, hoping it would numb the awful feeling in his chest and wipe those sounds and that face from his memory.

It never worked, of course. Everything would flash through his mind time and time again, tearing him apart by the second. Eventually he would fall asleep, curled up with his bottle of liquor, only to be haunted by dreams of his father, or 2D.

And repeat.

He wished he could tell everyone how sorry he was. Especially 2D. He wished he could be normal, he wished he could express himself for once and tell the singer how he really felt. But he would never be able to admit it. He could hardly even admit it to himself.

Of course, the partying did help. And it didn't. It helped because it took his mind off things, he could just shag birds and drink 'till he blacked out.

It didn't help because the morning after would be horrible. A splitting headache, foul taste in his mouth, and memories which reminded him of how dissatisfied he was with his life. He would kick the birds out, and lock himself in his room for the rest of the day, coming out only to eat. And pity on whoever he met on the way.

Noodle often said that he would find his death in alcohol. Murdoc chuckled bitterly. He was sure she'd never expected him to die like this. He always acted so confident and smart, while in the meantime he was dying inside.

He was sure Noodle saw that, though. Sometimes she would look at him strangely, and put her hand on his shoulder, asking him quietly if he was alright. He'd laugh it off, of course, saying nothing was wrong, love, why was she always worrying?

She would glare at him, knowing he was lying, and knowing there was no point in trying to get him to speak.

He felt a pang of guilt as he thought of the young girl. She didn't deserve to see her band mate with a bullet through his head, not at her age. Not at all.

He knew the men would make sure she was kept away, though. The bassist cringed as he thought of 2D walking in on him after he had shot himself. He would probably be worse than Noodle.

And Russel would be horrified. He would never see it coming, seeing as he thought of the bassist as a cocky, over-confident dick. Which is exactly how he portrayed himself.

Murdoc hardened his heart. It was all for the best, they would come to discover that eventually. They would realize that they're all much happier without the bassist, and move on with their lives. They all would. They always did.

Everyone always forgot about him anyway. His mother, his teachers, his one and only girlfriend ever, his so-called friends. He just seemed to fade away to them, amusing for some time but not missed when he was gone.

His father didn't forget about him, though. He never did. He didn't forget about him when he was drunk, remembering to give him at least one good kick. He didn't forget about him when he was sober, either. Or when he needed money.

He would always remember he had Murdoc there, somewhere to vent his general anger toward everything. Someone he overpowered, who he could control, do with what he wanted. Someone who wouldn't try to fight back, or call the police, or do anything in self defense at all.

And his brother didn't forget him either. Whenever his dad was done with beating him to a pulp, Hannibal and his friends decided they would add to Murdoc's collection of bruises and scratches.

Murdoc's hand clenched around the gun so tightly his knuckles were white as he felt the hatred course through him.

Those two people had ruined his life. They had turned him into the person he was now, and there was no way he would ever change. It was all their fault he and everyone around him was so miserable.

Their fault the gun was in his hands right now. Their fault he was raising his arms slowly, toward his face. Their fault the barrel was entering his mouth.

Murdoc breathed heavily, sweat trickling down his forehead. Come on. Just a little flick of the finger, the trigger would be pulled and everything would be done.

He took a deep breath, and was about to move his finger when he heard a gasp. He jerked up, and stared right at 2D, who was standing at his door opening, looking horrified.

They both stared at each other for a while, completely frozen. Then Murdoc threw the gun under the blankets.

"2D. Get the fuck out. Now," he hissed, glaring at 2D menacingly.

2D just shook his head, still staring at Murdoc with his mouth wide open. Murdoc jumped up.

"NOW!" he screamed, walking toward 2D.

The singer did the opposite of what he was expecting, though. He quickly shut the door and darted away from Murdoc's reach, rushing up to the bed and grabbing the gun from under the blankets. He stared at it, still looking horrified as he turned it around in his hands.

"Murdoc, what.. what is this?" he whispered, staring at the bassist.

Murdoc turned around and leaned his forehead against the wall, wishing 2D would just disappear.

"Stu, please just leave me alone," he growled tiredly.

Tired. He was so tired. He just wanted to make everything go away, he just wanted to leave everything behind him.

"Murdoc, look at me. What the fuck are you doing?" 2D whispered hoarsely.

Murdoc cringed at these words, slumping down. "Stuart.. please," he groaned, resisting the urge to bang his head against the wall.

2D put the gun on the desk, and walked over to Murdoc, putting his hand on the bassist's shoulder. The latter flinched away from the touch. 2D gripped his shoulder firmly though, and turned him around. To his surprise, Murdoc didn't even fight him. All the strength seemed to have seeped out of him.

2D stared at him wordlessly, and Murdoc avoided his eyes, looking at his shoes. He was forced to look up, though, as the singer gripped his chin with his forefinger and thumb and tilted his head up.

"Muds.. don't do this," 2D breathed, stroking the bassist's cheek softly.

Murdoc closed his eyes. "You don't get it, 2D. I have to," he muttered.

2D grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the bed. He sat down, and pulled the startled Murdoc onto his lap. He snaked his arms around him, keeping him locked in his grip.

"Murdoc, you're not going anywhere. You're staying right here with me, you're never going near that gun again. You're not leaving me. You're not leaving us," 2D whispered as he stroked Murdoc's back.

Murdoc found himself curling up into 2D's chest, the little resistance he had left melting.

"Noodle needs you here. Russel needs you. I need you. I'll always need you," 2D continued, putting his lips next to Murdoc's ear.

"I'll always be here for you. I love you."

The bassist drank up these words like they were a life elixir. Which they were. He didn't say a word, and 2D didn't expect him to. He pressed his lips against the bassist's temple softly, and Murdoc closed his eyes.

They just sat there, 2D stroking Murdoc's back and holding him tightly, pressing kisses on his temple, and the latter clinging to the singer.

2D wiped away the wetness on Murdoc's cheeks, and Murdoc flinched, not even realizing the tears had been there.

The singer leaned down and brushed his lips against Murdoc's gently, then leaned his forehead against his.

"I'll always be here," he whispered again, and Murdoc believed him.

**Thank you for reading, please leave reviews and tell me what you think!**


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